Page 104 - dubliners

The trial began again. The veins stood out on Far-
rington’s forehead, and the pallor of Weathers’ complexion
changed to peony. Their hands and arms trembled under
the stress. After a long struggle Weathers again brought his
opponent’s hand slowly on to the table. There was a murmur
of applause from the spectators. The curate, who was stand-
ing beside the table, nodded his red head towards the victor
and said with stupid familiarity:
‘Ah! that’s the knack!’
‘What the hell do you know about it?’ said Farrington
fiercely, turning on the man. ‘What do you put in your gab
for?’
‘Sh, sh!’ said O’Halloran, observing the violent expres-
sion of Farrington’s face. ‘Pony up, boys. We’ll have just one
little smahan more and then we’ll be off.’
A very sullen-faced man stood at the corner of O’Connell
Bridge waiting for the little Sandymount tram to take him
home. He was full of smouldering anger and revengeful-
ness. He felt humiliated and discontented; he did not even
feel drunk; and he had only twopence in his pocket. He
cursed everything. He had done for himself in the office,
pawned his watch, spent all his money; and he had not even
got drunk. He began to feel thirsty again and he longed to be
back again in the hot reeking public-house. He had lost his
reputation as a strong man, having been defeated twice by a
mere boy. His heart swelled with fury and, when he thought
of the woman in the big hat who had brushed against him
and said Pardon! his fury nearly choked him.
His tram let him down at Shelbourne Road and he

104 Dubliners